


breakfast, pina coladas, and tits

by isabelaofrivaini



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Minor Carey/Killian (The Adventure Zone), Multi, No Plot/Plotless, No Smut, Nonbinary Character, Pining, Set before Crystal Kingdom, Trans Character, but in a taako way, pre-Kravitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabelaofrivaini/pseuds/isabelaofrivaini
Summary: In truth, he’d just thought that it might wake the others up, having the light on out here. He’s never slept, so he’s not sure how sensitive waking up is, but Killian has definitely, as softly as she could, threatened murder to Angus for waking her up earlier than the sunrise. Sleep is something that nobody likes interrupted, so Taako tries not to disturb his friends. Not solely out of sentimentality, pssh, but due to the fact that they could be shipped out in search of a new Grand Relic any minute. That’s all. Duh.(Or, the one where Taako likes having his boobs out.)





	breakfast, pina coladas, and tits

**Author's Note:**

> Taako is transmasculine demiguy who uses he/him.  
> Please note that I haven't written for TAZ before, nor have I listened to past episode 35, so please don't spoil anything for me! <3 I have been spoiled for some big events but I'd like to live in ignorance about anything else lol. All I'm really trying to say is that if some characters are ooc or if I've somehow fucked with canon in some accidental way, note that I'm new to the fandom and I'd really appreciate you being niceeee.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Taako likes his work nowadays. It’d be hard not to, to be completely honest. He has two companions who are quickly becoming good friends backing him up whenever his magic isn’t enough to keep him on his feet. He gets to piss off, like, _anybody_ that he wants, and he completely gets away with it! No one is going to tell the three of them off for being a little vulgar or upfront, because they’re the best reclaimers that the Bureau of Balance has ever even seen.

He likes working for the Bureau of Balance. He likes working with Angus, who has learned not to take his bullshit seriously. He likes working with Killian, likes looking at the way that she looks at Carey. Killian can be kind of a dick sometimes, but she deserves something kind of decent for putting up with their shenanigans. He even has come to have a decent amount of respect for the Director. She’s the only one in this shitshow who really knows what’s going on, and she’s handling it alright.

So, yeah, the job he’s got going for him now? It’s great. But none of that, _none of it,_ comes close to how much he loves being in the kitchen. His cooking show business that he had before this was - it was the best he’s ever felt. Being able to _create_ random ass shit that shouldn’t make any sense or taste good at all, but having it be _phenomenal,_ is … it was such a good fucking time.

So having this setup with Merle and Magnus, having their _own_ kitchen (well, kind of. Taako has a little part of their shared living area set aside as sort of a makeshift kitchen, but hey, if anybody can make it work, he sure can.) and having basically any ingredient at their disposal is… great. Magnus and Merle made fun of him _once_ for cooking three meals a day for everybody, so he’d gone two days without offering his services before he had a sincerely-written apology letter from Magnus under his bedroom door and Merle casting Zone of Truth on himself to say how much he loved Taako’s quiches.

Taako had gotten up a little earlier than usual from his meditation this morning in order to get started on breakfast for the day. He’s in the middle of peeling the potatoes when he hears a door open from behind him, the lights flicker on, and then a yelp. “ _Ta_ _ako, put a shirt on!”_ That’s Magnus’s voice, who, for someone who has a habit of being a badass on the battlefield, is apparently a complete wimp when it come to a pair of boobs.

“I’ve seen you without your shirt on a thousand times,” Taako argues. Magnus complains that he runs warm-blooded _all_ the time, so he’s always walking around in just the pants he wears to sleep. “Plus, it’s, like, early. Go back to bed or something.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have ...” Magnus hesitates, as if he has suddenly forgotten every word for breasts that exists. Magnus rushes in wherever he goes, but he has no idea how to rush out of this sentence. Taako can’t tell if he’s annoyed or endeared by the fact that Magnus’s hesitance probably has to do with the “Having Non-Binary Friends For Dummies” book under Magnus’s bed that Taako isn’t supposed to know exists. (What can he say? He _can’t sleep_ and snooping is fun; it gets boring around here.)

“Tits? Titties? Boobs? Jugs? Bongos? Melons?”

“I _literally_ hate you-”

“Coconuts? Chesticles? Maracas? Knockers?” Taako looks up from his cooking to get a glance at Magnus, and _oh,_ is he glad he did. Magnus looks like he just swallowed his bowl for Steven whole. Magnus is also shirtless, the hypocrite, and - “Okay, dude, with _those_ pecs, you can’t say that you don’t have titties, mammary glands be damned.”

Magnus looks down at his chest. He looks like he’s a mix of offended and pleased. “Why didn’t you turn the light on in the room? Then I wouldn’t have just, like, peed myself a little bit. I thought it was empty.”

Taako shrugs, a lie already rolling off of his tongue. “I forgot that humans are all blind fucks, sorry. Plus, I was too lazy to light the torches.” In truth, he’d just thought that it might wake the others up, having the light on out here. He’s never slept, so he’s not sure how sensitive waking up is, but Killian has definitely, as softly as she could, threatened murder to Angus for waking her up earlier than the sunrise. Sleep is something that nobody likes interrupted, so Taako tries not to disturb his friends. Not solely out of sentimentality, pssh, but due to the fact that they could be shipped out in search of a new Grand Relic any minute. That’s all. Duh.

Magnus comes up to peer over Taako’s shoulder, eyes kindly trained on nothing but the food. “Whatcha making today? Please tell me those potatoes are for-”

“-Hashbrowns,” they say at the same time, since all three of them have a horrible habit of talking over each other. “Uh… I snagged some bacon from Petrilda, eggs, sausage, toast… Best breakfast you’ll ever have, guaranteed.”

Magnus snorts. “I’m not sure about that. I don’t think anything can ever be better than your pancakes.”

Taako files that piece of information away for potential gift-giving holidays. Does Magnus even _have_ a birthday? How old is he? Candlenights _is_ coming up soon, he supposes, so he could always just make pancakes then.

He’d make fun of Magnus for not helping, but then Magnus would _actually_ start helping, and he’s too big and burly to have any type of knack for the precision of cooking. Granted, they are about the same height, if Taako not being just a few inches shorter, but Taako is a little bit of fat and lean muscle where Magnus is just… beef.

They have a quiet conversation, both taking care not to wake up Merle, who _miraculously_ did not get awoken by Magnus’s yelping. They talk about reclaiming and the moonbase and Steven the goldfish until -

“ _Oh, Pan,_ Taako, put a shirt on!”

-

Carey is teaching Angus how to pick pockets. “It’s detective work, I swear,” she says. “Sometimes, kid, there are gonna be people who don’t want to give you the information you _need._ You gotta learn how to take it the hard way.”

“I’ve never had to pick something from anyone’s pocket before, ma’am,” Angus says. “I am the world’s greatest detective, I’m confident in my abilities without it!”

“I agree, kid,” she says, and she ruffles his already unruly hair. “But, look, you never know what will happen, right? And you’ll never even really need to use it. But maybe you’ll need to take a piece of evidence off of a desk _real_ sneaky when there are people all around, right? You never know.”

“She’s good with kids,” Killian says. She’s chillin’ with Taako in the pocket spa, sipping on an unsweetened iced tea. He can be an asshole sometimes, sure, but when it’s spa chillout time, it’s _spa chillout time,_ and Killian’s always invited. She scares off anybody who will try to fuck with Taako for having his tits out.

Taako, from beneath his pointy hat and his pina colada, hums in agreement. “Make me the godparent of your two’s kids,” he teases. “Taako Killian … uh, what’s Carey’s last name?”

She snorts. “Stop it,” she says, but she doesn’t sound too torn up over it.

“ _Fangbattle!_ ” he declares. “I knew it all along, I was just seeing if you knew her last name. Yes, I’ll be the godparent of Taako Killian Fangbattle the First. I’d offer my sperm donor services but, unfortunately, I think you’ll have better luck with Merle. Though, he might make his terms be to have the fucker be a pagan.”

Killian ugly cackles at that. “I don’t know if dragonborn and dwarven hybrid babies are something I really need in my life, anyway.”

Taako passes her the pina colada so that he can try the iced tea. It’s not sweet enough for him. “I mean, if it means anything, I’m half surprised you let me live after making that joke in the first place.”

Killian eats the ice straight out of her iced tea like a demon. “Someday, Taako, I hope you’ll find somebody where jokes like that aren’t so fuckin’ aggravating.”

Taako opens his mouth to say _yeah, sure thing, Krill Fish,_ but his mind just goes straight to that moment in the battlewagon race, where Magnus had offered to give up his harness to Taako without a second thought. Taako had told him not to worry about it, had made some joke about _mongoose wings,_ but the offer had still been there, immediate and at the ready. Even when Magnus was the one who was jumping from vehicle to vehicle with reckless abandon.

Magnus. Magnus. _Oh, fuck._

Killian sees something in his facial expression and just fucking laughs, even though she has no idea who’s on the other side of his thoughts. “I guess I might be the godmother of your kid, too, huh?”

Taako can’t deny that that sounds pretty awesome, but he can’t even imagine having kids. No thank you.

(Would they forget about him, in time? Or would they be in the Bureau of Balance, having to watch their father’s memory going up in the Rites of Remembrance? Taako’s not sure what would be worse.)

“Magnus, sir!” Angus chirps, stopping his fake robbery of the dragonborn rogue. “Carey is teaching me how to be a thief!”

Magnus looks like he’s just gotten back from working out. His muscle shirt is covered in sweat all over, the only giveaway that it’s not usually a dark off-white color being the patch of dry fabric near his neck. A little tired, he smiles at Angus. “Hey, Ango,” he says. “I think you should steal from Merle first. He’s probably got some _freaky_ shit hidden in that Extreme Teen Bible.”

Taako gags. “I never, _ever,_ need to hear the words _freaky shit_ and _extreme teen_ in the same sentence, Mango.” Magnus looks over at him and gets the most _obnoxious_ look on his face. It looks … soft, and it’s stupid, and Taako hates it.

Angus, at least, is probably too young to know the very unbiblical subtext in what they just said. “Hey! Mango and Ango! We match!”

Taako gets this weird feeling in his chest that he can’t really explain. It’s stupid. He hates it. “You both match in your lack of brain cells,” he says, to make up for it.

Magnus ruffles Angus’s hair, similar to the way that Carey had just a few minutes ago, (poor Angus is probably going to get a concussion someday) and they both stick their tongues out at him. God. Taako thinks, sometimes, that he has two ten-year-olds around him instead of one.

Mangus leaves Carey and Angus to their robbery simulation and, without asking for permission, hops into the pocket spa. He still has his shoes on. Due to the sheer size of his body, a portion of the water splashes out and hits Angus in the head. It refills automatically, since, y’know, magic, but Angus doesn’t look too pleased.

“Ah, this is good for my sore muscles,” Magnus says, spreading out so that his arms out of the water. The fingertips on his right hand are so close to Taako’s shoulder that he can feel the presence of them there without actually touching. “My sore meaty man muscles. They’re just so big, you know? It gets distracting, and it kind of hurts sometimes.”

“Jess the Beheader seemed to be able to manage it fine,” Taako reminds him. Whenever he can remind Magnus that there is at least one person out there who is buffer than him, he will.

“Those muscles must have been silicone,” Magnus says. “Must’ve been fake. Fake muscles. Otherwise she would, uh, have had to suffer with them. Like me.”

“Right, of course,” Killian says, even though she’s obviously just going along with it for the sake of fuckery. She flexes, then, all beautiful muscle. Taako watches as Carey tries and fails not to trip over her own feet at the sight. “I don’t know if you know how muscles work, Magnus.”

“Of course I do,” Magnus scoffs, and looks over at Taako, presumably to see if he’s laughing. Taako is surprised that Magnus hasn’t asked why he’s bare-chested in public, but he’s not gonna bring it up. That conversation is labeled somewhere under body dysphoria. Taako raises an eyebrow at him, and Magnus does the same. They wiggle eyebrows at each other for a little bit too long before Magnus turns away, blushing.

Killian snorts. “ _Oh,_ ” she says, but refuses to elaborate under questioning. Taako splashes her with water, but is grateful.

-

“Can I ask you a question?” Magnus asks that night. Taako is drinking hot chocolate, sitting by and looking down the glass window on the floor that Magnus had covered up with carpet a while back.

“Depends,” Taako says, looking up at the fighter. Magnus looks too scared to look down due to the giant glass door that shows the scenery back on land, too far of a drop to feel secure. “Is it a question that you have used any brain power to answer yourself?”

“Yes,” Magnus says, but he looks like he’s not too sure about it. He looks down at Taako, quickly, probably drooling in jealousy over Taako’s fantastic purple nightgown, but immediately looks back up. “I was wondering if, you, like, uh…”

Taako sips his hot chocolate. “Do you want any?” he interrupts.

Magnus chokes. “Do I want any wh-..? Oh, hot chocolate, uh, no, thanks though. I was-”

“Oh well, the offer still stands,” Taako interrupts again.

“I was wondering, if you, like, need a binder?” Magnus says, voice a tiny bit louder in volume so that Taako can’t interrupt him anymore. _Oh,_ Taako thinks. “Like, uh … I read somewhere that sometimes that can help with, uh… you know. And I mean, I’m not gonna try and explain it to you because I’m a hundred percent sure that you know more about it than I do, but, like, I noticed that, uh … you kinda don’t really have anything when we’re on missions? And I just know that like, that might hurt. And stuff.”

Taako blinks a few times. “You’re asking me if I need a binder because you’re worried that my titties hurt when I’m killing shit?”

A beat passes. “...Yeah? I mean, I kind of figured that, like, uh … I don’t know. We’ve got a lot of smart people up here, you know? Someone could whip something up that, like, won’t fall apart immediately.”

Taako nods, and sips his hot chocolate while he can think of a response. He _could_ tell Magnus about growing up with skinned knees, about borrowing the clothes that his twin sister no longer needed or wanted, binding with rope or bandages or whatever was accessible to him. He could talk about the way that it fucked up his ribs and his lungs real bad, how some of the scars and scrapes on his chest aren’t from fighting, but from binding with stupid shit. He could even talk about how the reason that he’s not still binding, even when he has the resources, is because that would be a constant reminder that he has to.

He could say any of that, really, but it’s a little too emotional for him, so he says, “You know, the thing about binding? Even if you do it the way they tell you to, it fucks your body up a little bit. Plus, uh, I could probably magic off my titties any time I wanted, if I studied magic enough. I just don’t really want to. I don’t mind ‘em.”

“So, uh, hypothetically,” Magnus says, and Taako’s a little bit impressed, because he didn’t even know that Magnus knew the word _hypothetically,_ “if you had access, to, like, a binder that _doesn’t_ fuck up your body, would you be interested? Or are you good, like, titt- uh, chest exposed?”

Taako snorts. He could always sell anything that Magnus got him and get a lot of gold. “I wouldn’t mind having access to one, I guess. You know, try it on, see if it gives me that good ole dysphoria, then go from there. Why? Are you going to become an inventor for Candlenights?”

“Me? Oh, gods, no,” Magnus says. “I’d fuck it up real bad. I don’t think anyone should trust any article of clothing that comes from my hands.”

“Those hands are best for disarming robots, after all,” Taako replies, and Magnus gives him that stupid soft look, and Taako still hates it.

(Not as much as he did earlier today, though. His hate for it is slightly dissolving into something warmer that he is _never_ going to think too hard about, ever.)

**Author's Note:**

> inadvertently making fun of the shitty "discovering someone is trans by walking in on them changing" trope - since 1. everyone already knows taako is trans in this fic and 2. taako is making the decisions of having his titties out in public spaces
> 
> also im sorry if i inadvertently put a lot of Common Embarrassing Fandom Tropes TM in here, my b, my b  
> (also ye i know carey wasnt technically introduced until the beginning of crystal kingdom but like .. c'est la vie)


End file.
